Big Denny Battles ‘Bigfoot’ for the Barstow Eating Championship

There’s an old saying: “Some people eat to live while others live to eat.”

There’s actually a third category: the professional gobblers who eat for a living by entering contests. The number one competitive eater in the world is a 28-year-old student at San Jose State University named Joey “Jaws” Chestnut. His most notable achievement is winning the Nathan’s Famous Fourth of July International Hot Dog Eating Contest the last five years in a row. In 2009 he set a record by gulping down 68 dogs and buns in 10 minutes! Now that is a talented culinary consumer – or, as Aunt Sophie would say, “What a fresser!”

Recently reading about Chestnut, I felt a kinship because I also attended San Jose State University, and I grew up near Coney Island, where I would spend all day playing the penny arcade machines (yes, they were a penny back then), and devouring more Nathan’s hot dogs than I could count, even after the priced soared from a nickel to seven cents. In fact, college and Coney once came together when I entered a journalism school writing contest about childhood memories, winning it with my vivid recollection of the intoxicating aroma of Coney Island sea breezes mingling with the smell of hot grease from the roller coasters and the mouth-watering scent of Nathan’s dogs.

This gave me an idea when I was at Barstow Card Casino and had to listen to Big Denny bitch, as usual, at how bad business had been lately. “Any ideas on how I could get some publicity for da joint, Maxey?” he asked.

That’s when I thought of an eating contest matching the big ape against “Jaws.” Think about it! “Jaws” vs. “Paws.”

I proposed the idea to Denny, he went for it, and we then discussed it with his executive chef, Fingers Finnegan. Fingers got his unique nickname after losing two digits on each hand. He managed to chop two fingers off his right hand while taking a cooking class in prison and lost two more on his left hand when his mob pals learned that he had gotten an early release by turning state’s evidence. We asked him what food he would suggest for the contestants.

“Muleburgers,” he promptly responded.

“Muleburgers – is that the only thing you know how to cook?” I asked in disgust.

“Yeah, well, whaddaya suggest, baldy – peasant under grass?”

A compromise was finally reached. The contest would be the same as Nathan’s, to see who could eat the most hot dogs – something even Fingers Finnegan could learn to cook – in 10 minutes.

I then contacted Chestnut, made the offer to him, and he accepted. However, after later doing research and discovering how many times the Health Department had shut down the casino’s Four-Star Buffet, the eating champ sent his regrets.

Now, who could we replace him with? There was really only one obvious choice: Mike “Bigfoot” Paulle. Mike is a talented if somewhat crusty poker writer, blogger and tournament reporter. He once took over my job doing the reports for the World Series of Poker when they were still held at Binion’s Horseshoe by making a better offer. I think he agreed to work for something like $20 a week. The catch was that the deal also included all the meals he wanted, a stipulation that led to Binion’s filing for bankruptcy. Today his name is in the black book of every buffet in Vegas.

Mike is a friendly enough guy, but not someone you would want to meet in a dark alley. He stands just under 11 feet tall. His weight, however, has never been accurately documented because science has been unable to devise a scale big enough to accommodate him. What a match-up! Gamblers and Gobblers. King Kong battles Godzilla.

Paulle has also appeared as an extra in dozens of movies, TV series and commercials. Perhaps his most memorable role was as a bad guy who eats people in a low-budget horror flick called “Hellinger.” I figured that if he could consume humans, downing a few dogs would be no problem.

Paulle quickly went for the idea of being paid for eating everything he could, while Denny wasn’t in the least bit fazed about going up against him. “I kin out-eat dat bum any day of da week,” he boasted. He was so confident that he made himself a 5-to-1 favorite in his sports book, raking in numerous bets from locals who hoped that the crooked casino owner would be forced to eat so much that he’d choke himself to death.

On the big day, I drove to Barstow with Paulle. The security guard at the gate gulped as he looked at Bigfoot, and for once a customer was not patted down and pick-pocketed. We walked through the shabby casino to the stage where a barbecue grill was set up, sending noxious fumes from stale meat wafting over a gagging audience. Standing by were several firemen in the event of an explosion caused by both competitors farting simultaneously.

To set the mood, Aunt Sophie walked up to the microphone and began croaking out a bunch of food songs like “Shoe Fly Pie and Apple Pan Dowdy,” “Yes We Have No Bananas,” and “I’ve Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts,” nearly causing the two competitors to lose their appetites.

Finally the contest began. The clock began ticking as Denny and Mike began flicking hot dogs and buns down their gullets, with the crowd unanimously cheering for Bigfoot. It was a pretty even match up to the first 35 or so dogs, but then the effort began taking his toll on Paulle. He visibly slowed down while Denny cheerfully kept devouring the doggies. With a minute to go, Paulle threw up his hands in surrender as Denny unbelievably picked up the pace. With seconds to go, he swallowed hot dog number 69 and bellowed, “Dat’s a new world’s record.”

Paulle, near collapse from all the moldy franks he had downed, suspected that something besides the dogs was rotten. Staggering over to Denny’s side of the stage, he grabbed one of the remaining buns, opened it and, to nobody’s surprise, showed the audience it was empty except for two small pieces sticking out of each end.

“We been cheated again!” someone shouted. The crowd surged toward the stage with Denny trying to beat them back by throwing hot dogs at them. Before physical mayhem could develop, a squad of police, with plenty of experience breaking up riots at Big Denny’s Barstow Card Casino, ran up on stage and led the proprietor away in handcuffs,
Well, Big Denny didn’t set any eating record, but he did set another record of sorts by becoming the first person in history to be arrested and charged with an eating disorder: disorderly conduct at an eating contest. As for Paulle, the day after the contest he announced he was turning vegetarian, causing the commodities trading price for broccoli and Brussel sprouts to soar to all-time highs. ♠

Max Shapiro, a lifelong poker player and former newspaper reporter with several writing awards to his credit, has been writing a humor column for Card Player ever since it was launched more than 20 years ago. His early columns were collected in his book, Read ’em and Laugh.